Max bobbed down and picked it up – his phone. Thoughts began to tumble violently through his brain, but he slowed his breathing and unlocked the phone. He tried calling Rachel. He called four times, but she didn’t answer. Then, just as he was about to dial her again, he noticed Tyler’s name on the call list.
Max walked over to the side of the building and steadied himself against it. He pressed Tyler’s name and let the phone ring. “Ty? You called me?”
“Max, what’s going on? Did you read my text? Where are you?”
Max didn’t answer, just hung up and fumbled to his messages.
Please, Max, think about this. You’ve already lied to her. What’s the point in coming clean now?
Max was gripping the phone so tightly that he thought it might crumple beneath his fingers. He let out an angry roar and threw it to the ground. “No. No, no, no.” Then he set off towards the cottage.
33
Rachel
Rachel paced up and down the kitchen for two hours, waiting for Max to return. She was seething; it had all been an act. All of it. Max was nothing more than a dodgy ex-cop who needed cash. He’d duped her, and she’d let him.
Angrily, she slammed the kettle onto the stove and tapped her foot up and down while she waited for it to boil. He should be back by now. Surely, he’d have noticed that she was missing and asked for a ride back to the cottage?
She looked at Brandi’s empty basket. Without the two of them, the cottage felt creepy and quiet. Sitting down, she tapped her phone up and down on the table. Then she called her father.
“Dad?”
“Rach. Sweetheart. How are you?”
“Did you ask Tyler Banks and Max Bernstein to lie to me?”
Her father didn’t answer. Rachel could hear his breathing and pictured him hanging his head. “Rachel, it’s not how it sounds.”
“You asked them not to tell me that they found the guy who was harassing me?” She felt tears springing to her eyes. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“I just wanted to give you a few more weeks, Rach, that’s all. You seemed so happy. Happier than I’ve seen you in years. You were buoyant, excited about the book, bubbling with energy.” He paused and sighed. “I worry about you in London all alone. I thought perhaps a few more weeks would help you see that city life doesn’t suit you.”
“Dad!” Rachel was so exasperated she could barely speak, but something in what her father said made her stop and breathe in deeply. “What makes you say that? That I’ve been happier?”
“Well, sweetheart, because you have. Your voice. Your texts. You’ve been... your best self.” Her father paused then continued, “Even before all this nasty business with the stalking, you hadn’t been doing great. You were lonely. I could see it. But something about that cottage, maybe the scenery, the fresh air... it’s done you good.”
Rachel had been walking up and down the middle of the kitchen but stopped and braced her hand on her hip. “You shouldn’t have asked them to lie to me. You certainly shouldn’t have bribed them to lie to me.”
“I know. Rachel, I’m sorry.”
“Did Max demand more money?” she asked quietly, wincing as she waited for the answer.
“No. No, no. I offered it. He said if we didn’t tell you the truth then he would. He was very unhappy about it. You mustn’t blame him, Rachel. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
Rachel felt tears springing to her eyes. “Right. Okay. I have to go–”
“Rachel, wait. Please don’t hang up like this. I’m sorry.”
“Dad...” She sighed and scraped her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “It’s fine, Dad. We’ll talk about it. I’m not happy. But it’s not undoable. Okay? But I have to go.”
34
Max
He was walking quickly. But it was cold. So cold that he was struggling to make his feet move in front of one another. Last night, it had been okay but tonight the villagers had been muttering about it getting below freezing. And Max had left his jacket back at the party.
He looked down at Brandi. Her breath was puffing out in big white clouds. “Wish I had a fur coat right now,” he said softly.
As he approached the coastal footpath, an icy wind began to blow. He could either walk along the road, which was longer on foot, or by the cliffs. The cliff-route was quicker, but much more exposed. Max closed his eyes. He had already pictured Rachel packing her bags and leaving, driving back to London and never speaking to him again. And the idea of it made him feel both numb and terrified at the same time.
Hunching his shoulders up under his ears and tucking his hands into the warm grooves of his armpits, Max took a deep breath and tried to quicken his pace. “Coastal path is quicker. Come on, girl.”
35
Rachel
Rachel followed the road from the cottage all the way back to the village hall. It was now dark and completely empty. He wasn’t there. No one was there.
Turning back the way she’d come, Rachel drove slowly. The truck’s dashboard display told her it was below freezing outside, and she could see crystals of ice beginning to form on the road ahead. She was about ten minutes away from the cottage when her headlights settled on a small wooden signpost.
COASTAL PATH TO CRAIG’S COTTAGE - TWO MILES.
Rachel stopped the truck and got out. The wind was vicious. “Max?!” she called into the darkness. “Max? Are you out here?”
She was about to get back into the vehicle when she heard a muted bark in the distance. “Brandi?” She ran back to the truck and grabbed the flashlight that was still in the back from the day before. As she turned it on, she heard the rattle of Brandi’s collar and saw her running out of the gloom.
Rachel bobbed down and wrapped her arms around the Belgian Shepherd. “Brandi... where’s Max?”
Brandi barked and trotted back to the signpost. Then barked again.
“He’s gone that way? Is he in trouble?”
Brandi barked again, louder this time.
“Okay.” Rachel pulled her coat closer and waved her arms. “Show me, Brandi. Show me.”
Just a few metres away from the main road, Brandi stopped and let out a series of barks and groans. Rachel broke into a run to catch up with her.
“Max?” She knelt down and reached for him. He was hunched up with his arms around his legs, shivering violently.
“Rachel? I’m so cold.”
“It’s okay.” She tucked her arms through his and started to pull him to his feet. “You just need to stand up, Max. The truck is down there. It’s not far.”
“Rachel, I’m so sorry. Tyler’s message. You saw it, didn’t you? I need to explain.”
“Yes, I did. But you don’t need to say anything, Max. Not right now. Let’s just get you home.”
Together, they walked back to the truck. Rachel bundled Max into the passenger seat and put the heating on.
Back at the cottage, she went to his room, found his pyjamas and his thick grey sweater. “You need to change into these. They’re warm.” She watched as he started fumbling with his shirt buttons then slowly reached out to help him. “Here, let me.” Beneath it, he was wearing a white vest. His arms were large and muscular but freezing cold to the touch. Rachel helped him pull a t-shirt on over the top of the vest, then the sweater. With just the pyjama pants left in her hand, she met his eyes and surprised herself by laughing. “Can you manage these?”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling slowly. “I can manage those.”
“Okay. I’ll make tea. You sit.”
In the kitchen, Rachel leaned back against the countertop and released a long, shaky breath. She was so, so angry at him. But at the same time, seeing him like that, she had been terrified of losing him.
She made his tea strong and sweet and, when she returned to the lounge, she wrapped an extra blanket around his shoulders.
“Thank you.” He took the tea from her and sipped it. He’d stopped shivering, but still loo
ked pale.
Rachel sat down on the coffee table opposite him and wrapped her fingers around her own mug. She was struggling to find the right words. Eventually, she said, “I spoke to my father.”
Max nodded.
“He says you weren’t happy about the idea of lying to me.”
“No. I wasn’t.” Max met her eyes and smiled thinly. “But I still did.”
Rachel looked down at her hands and swallowed hard. “When did Tyler tell you? I mean, how long have you known that it was okay for me to go back to London?”
“Only since yesterday.”
Rachel’s eyebrows twitched with surprise; she assumed it had been longer. Weeks, even.
“I texted Tyler this morning and told him I wasn’t going to do it, but I didn’t want to get him in trouble with your father, so I said I’d give him until the end of the week to smooth things over.”
Rachel tapped her fingernails on her mug. “He was going to offer you four thousand a week. Double what you’ve been getting.” She noticed Max wince as she spelled out the figure. He’d never told her what he was being paid and she’d never asked. But that was a lot of money. And it changed things.
“I wouldn’t have taken it.”
“You took two grand a week.”
“Because that’s what was outlined when I took the job.” Max shuffled forwards and shrugged off one of the blankets. “I didn’t know you then, Rachel.”
“Tyler’s text said you have money problems?”
Max blinked slowly then set down his tea on the coffee table beside her and rubbed the back of his neck. “I do. I did. This job... it was enough to sort them out for me but the future’s still uncertain.” He paused then reached out to take her hands between his.
For a moment, Rachel let him. But then she took them away and folded her arms in front of her chest.
Max nodded, as if he understood what she was feeling, and took a deep breath. “Frank died because of me. I dragged him into a missing person’s case that he wasn’t supposed to be working on. I was desperate. A child was missing, and I needed him and Brandi to help me find her. He died because of my actions. I didn’t play by the rules. I was careless. And he died.”
Rachel blinked back moisture from her eyes as Max’s voice wavered.
“I couldn’t handle the guilt. I sold everything I owned and gave it to his family; got my solicitor to tell them it was a donation from the police force.” He shook his head and looked down at his hands. “Except, I didn’t really think it through. I sold my house, gave them every penny I had in savings, and moved into a rented place. But then it all got on top of me and I realised I couldn’t do the job anymore. So, I was out of work, out of money...” Max pushed his fingers through his hair and met her eyes. “I was in a bad place. Then Tyler called and...”
Rachel waved her hands at herself. “Problem solved.”
Max hadn’t moved his eyes away from hers. He nodded slowly. “Yes. But, Rachel, I promise you that until yesterday I hadn’t told you one single untruth. Everything you know about me is real.” He paused and swallowed hard. “Everything I feel for you is real. And I know it doesn’t mean anything now, but I was going to tell you. I really was.” As he stopped speaking, he swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and blinked at the ceiling.
Rachel wanted to fold herself into his arms and tell him it would all be okay. This morning, that’s what she would have done. But now, she couldn’t let herself do it.
“I need some time, Max. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He opened his mouth to speak but she held her hand up to stop him. “Please. I just need time.”
36
Max
Max stayed awake all night. He didn’t read. He didn’t pace up and down. He just sat and stared at the fire, wishing beyond anything he’d ever wished before that he had done things differently. If he’d only told Rachel the second he put the phone down from Tyler...
At five a.m., he headed outside to watch the sun rise over the lake. At the end of the jetty, he hung his legs over the edge and let them dangle above the water. Compared to this, here, his life in London was hollow and meaningless. And the grief he felt at the idea of leaving it behind – leaving Rachel behind – was almost too much to bear.
The sun was on its way up past the trees when he heard the front door of the cottage close. A few moments later, he turned to see Rachel heading towards him. Brandi was beside her and she was carrying two red mugs. Wisps of steam wound up into the cold morning air and, when she reached the end of the jetty, she handed him one of the mugs.
She was wearing her thick tartan coat and had tied her hair back into a loose bun at the bottom of her neck. “Did you sleep?” she asked quietly, sitting down beside him.
“Not so much. Did you?”
She shrugged and gestured to her face. “Can’t you tell from the shadows under my eyes?”
Max shook his head. “You look beautiful. Same as always.”
Rachel blinked at the compliment and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Max, before I say anything – I need to know how you feel about me?”
“How I feel?”
She met his eyes and nodded solemnly. “Yes. The truth.”
“I love you.” The words escaped his lips before he even had a chance to stop them. But he didn’t regret it. A little louder, he repeated, “I love you, Rachel.”
He watched her face. She was looking out at the lake, but she wasn’t smiling. “I realised something last night,” she said quietly.
Max swallowed hard, trying not to feel the echo of his declaration vibrating in his ears.
Rachel turned to him and tucked one leg back up onto the decking. “I realised that I called this place home.”
Max looked back at the cottage and smiled. Yes, she had. Let’s get you home, she’d said.
“And I also realised that when I talk about my actual home, I refer to it as ‘London’.”
“I think I do that too.” Life in London felt a million miles away.
Rachel nodded. “You do. We both do.”
He was trying to work out where she was going, but he was lost.
“Max, my father told me last night that the reason he wanted me to stay here was because he could tell I was happier.” She paused and looked back out at the water. Along the shoreline, trees glistened in the dewy morning light. It was going to be a sunny day. “He thought it was the Scottish scenery or the fresh air. But it’s not.” Rachel reached out to put her hand on his knee and Max’s heart flipped over in his chest. “It’s you.”
Max felt his lips break into a grin.
“So, tell me again...” she said slowly. “How do you feel about me?”
With one hand, Max wrapped his fingers around hers, and with the other he pulled her closer to him. “I love you, Rachel.”
“I love you too, Max.”
“Rachel?” He leaned back so that she could see his face, see how serious he was. He was about to ask a question he never, ever thought he’d love someone enough to ask. “Will you marry me?”
Rachel smiled; the same smile that had driven him mad since the moment he met her. Playfully, she held her index finger to the corner of her mouth and said, “Hmmm.” But then she laughed, kissed him, and said, “Yes. Of course I will.”
Max scooped her into his arms. He pulled her towards him and smothered her with kisses.
“No more secrets though, Max,” she said sternly.
“Never.”
“And no more London?”
Max looked at Rachel, and Brandi, and the cottage. “No more London. We’ll find a place just like this.”
Rachel sighed and put her head on Max’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Somewhere just like this would be wonderful.”
Epilogue
Rachel brushed down her smart black dress and checked her hair in the mirror. The final stop on Rogue Detective’s series finale book tour was a big one
– an audience at London’s National Theatre with almost one thousand tickets sold.
She was bubbling with nerves, but knowing she’d see her father and Max sitting in the front row soothed her a little. Her publicist stepped up beside her and put a hand on her arm. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Rachel replied. And then it was out onto the stage.
Scanning the crowd, she saw the faces she was looking for. Max was wearing an uncustomary white shirt and smart grey trousers. He looked devilishly handsome. Her father was sitting next to him, also dressed smartly but with a jaunty bowtie. Both of them waved as she walked out, then leaned in to whisper something to one another.
Rachel smiled at them, then turned to the host – Patrick Fenner, an experienced radio presenter. “Rachel French,” he said, extending his hand to shake hers. “Welcome and thank you for being with us tonight. I know you’re a long way from home.”
Rachel nodded. “I’m delighted, Patrick. It’s always a pleasure to speak to you.”
The interview lasted just over an hour. Patrick asked Rachel about how she started writing, what she thought of Rogue Detective’s T.V. adaptation, and finally touched on her ‘ordeal’ and the fascinating consequences of it.
“And it’s because of this, though, that you met your husband. Is that right?” Patrick looked towards the audience and Rachel knew that Max would be blushing.
“It is, yes.”
“He was your bodyguard? That sounds like something from a Hollywood movie.” Patrick laughed and the audience laughed with him.
“Well, it was a little like that, actually.” Rachel looked down and began to twirl the white-gold wedding band that now sat comfortably on her ring-finger.
The True Love Travels Series Box Set Page 13